The Inside Story of Rudyard Kipling and 'The Jungle Book' - Biography.com History & Culture The Inside Story of Rudyard Kipling and 'The Jungle Book' As a new star-studded Jungle Book hits movie screens today, here's a look at the original classic and its creator. Avatar: Social count: 110 As a new star-studded Jungle Book hits movie screens today, here's a look at the original classic and its creator. 110 0 A portrait of Rudyard Kipling from the biography Rudyard Kipling by John Palmer, first published in New York by Henry Holt and Company in 1915. (Photo: [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons ) Published in 1894, Rudyard Kipling’s The Jungle Book proved to be a hit with young and old alike. The Jungle Book’s stories of a human boy named Mowgli raised by animals in the wild made for riveting reading. In these tales, the animals proved to be both Mowgli’s allies and adversaries. Baloo the bear, Bagheera the panther and Shere Khan the tiger have all become famous characters in children’s literature.

They even appeared in Kipling’s sequel, The Second Jungle Book, which debuted in 1895. A new adaptation of The Jungle Book, directed by Jon Favreau, makes its debut today with a dazzling array of celebrity stars voicing its animal characters. Bill Murray , Ben Kingsley and Idris Elba are the voices of Baloo, Bagheera and Shere Khan respectively. As The Jungle Book hits movie screens, now is the perfect time to take a look at the original classic and its creator Rudyard Kipling . Baloo (voiced by Bill Murray) and Mowgli (Neel Sethi) in The Jungle Book. (Photo: Walt Disney Pictures) Kipling wrote The Jungle Book while living in the United States. Kipling had been good friends with American writer and editor Wolcott Balestier, and he ended up marrying Wolcott’s sister Caroline “Carrie” Balestier, in January 1892.

The couple bought land from one of her other brothers, Beatty Balestier, in Vermont where they built their dream home, called “The Naulahka.” Naulakha means “jewel beyond price” in Hindi, according to the home’s website . The name is also shared with a book Kipling worked on with Wolcott Balestier. Becoming a father inspired Kipling to write for children. He had started The Jungle Book around the time he and his wife were expecting their first child together. Daughter Josephine was born in 1892. According to BBC News, he gave her a special copy of The Jungle Book to his daughter, in which he wrote: "This book belongs to Josephine Kipling for whom it was written by her father, May 1894." The Kipling family soon grew to include daughter Elsie, born in 1895, and later son John in 1897. Sadly, Josephine only lived to be six years old. Both she and her father came down with pneumonia in 1899, and she ended up succumbing to the illness.

Her death left Kipling heartbroken, and he never fully recovered from this tremendous loss. Kipling never even visited the jungle mentioned in The Jungle Book. Despite spending years in India, he chose to set his stories in the Seonee jungle (now known as Seoni), an area he’d never visited. Kipling instead drew from the experiences of others. According to Angus Wilson’s The Strange Ride of Rudyard Kipling: His Life and Works, Kipling saw photographs of this jungle taken by his friends, Aleck and Edmonia “Ted” Hill, and listened to their experiences there. He also likely found inspiration from the works of Robert Armitage Sterndale, including Mammalia of India, according to Martin Seymour-Smith’s Rudyard Kipling: A Biography. Others point to Sterndale’s 1877 book Seonee: Or, Camp Life on the Satpura Range, as an important influence on Kipling’s tales. An illustration from The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling. (Photo: Internet Archive Book Images via Wikimedia Commons ) Another significant source was likely to be Kipling’s own father, John Lockwood Kipling.

The elder Kipling was an illustrator, museum curator and art teacher. He produced Beast and Man in India: A Popular Sketch of Indian Animals in Their Relations with the People, which was published in 1891. John Lockwood Kipling also provided the images for some of his son’s works, including The Jungle Book and the 1901 novel Kim. Another classic children’s tale, “Rikki-Tikki-Tavi,” also comes from The Jungle Book. While most remember the Mowgli stories, they, in fact, only make up part of The Jungle Book. And like the Kipling’s tales about Mowgli, “Rikki-Tikki-Tavi” explores the relationship between the human world and the animal world. In this case, a mongoose seeks to protect a family of humans from a pair of deadly cobras. This battle of mongoose versus cobras has enjoyed some success outside of The Jungle Book, having been published as a stand-alone picture book several times over the years. “Rikki-Tikki-Tavi” was also turned into a 1975 animated short with Hollywood heavyweight Orson Welles voicing one of the cold-hearted cobras. The Jungle Book has inspired countless adaptations.

The first live action film debuted in 1942, but the best-known movie version up until now was the 1967 animated Disney tale. Disney took a lot of license with the original story and transformed it into a feel-good family musical. One of its songs, “The Bare Necessities,” was even nominated for an Academy Award. An interesting mix of actors lent their voices to the project. Sebastian Cabot, best known for the TV show Family Affair, played Bagheera, and bandleader Louis Prima played King Louie of the apes. Phil Harris, who was Baloo, went on to voice another animated bear for Disney, playing Little John in 1973’s Robin Hood. The voice of Mowgli, however, came from a rookie performer. Bruce Reitherman, the son of the film’s director Wolfgang Reitherman, played the endearing “man cub” in the film. He told the Express newspaper that “The voice of Mowgli required something special, in the sense that he had to be absolutely ordinary. It had to feel like a really average kid.” The Jungle Book movie poster.

(Courtesy Walt Disney Pictures) The Jungle Book Book Review What parents need to know Educational value In itself, The Jungle Book is a classic work of literature, a point of reference for subsequent works that personify animals. This book also encourages readers to see the natural world from different points of view and gain an understanding of the intricate relationship between animal populations that share the same environment. Positive messages The Jungle Book features a few different protagonists, but all of the stories show the importance of respect for the natural world, and the ways that creatures large and small (even children like Mowgli) can gain respect and success by using their own intelligence and understanding. Positive role models Young characters learn a lot from mature ones in this book. Mowgli, especially, has a strong role model in Akela the wolf, who teaches through leadership and dignity. Baloo the bear and Bagheera the panther also protect Mowgli and teach him the ways of the Jungle animals. In his story, Rikki Tikki Tavi, the brave mongoose, uses intelligence and ruthlessness to best his enemy and protect his family.

Violence & scariness There's certainly violence in these stories, but most of it takes place "offscreen," such as when Rikki Tikki Tavi disappears into a hole, where he apparently kills a cobra, and then emerges victorious; or when Shere Khan is duped by Mowgli, but he's hidden all the while by a herd of cattle. The most overt violence is when Mowgli skins a dead animal, and he "slashed and tore and grunted for an hour." Animals in the stories often talk about killing other animals for food. Language Animals insult each other in animal terms -- a snake is offended by monkeys that call him an "earthworm," for example -- but there's no cursing. Parents Need to Know Parents need to know that Rudyard Kipling's book of short stories The Jungle Book is far less whimsical (and musical) than Disney's classic animated film , and it includes stories with different central characters besides Mowgli, the "mancub" raised by wolves and befriended by Baloo the bear. However, in part because of the charming movie, Mowgli's stories are probably the best loved and best known pieces in the collection.

These wonderful stories, which alternate with lyrical poems about the characters, depict a complex and sometimes dangerous natural world in which creatures must respect the "ways of the jungle" in order to coexist. Creatures hunt and kill each other in suspenseful scenes, but almost all violent acts happen "offscreen." In one scene, Mowgli uses his wits to trick an adversary into being killed by a stampeding herd of cattle; the animal's death is not shown, but Mowgli is later described skinning the animal. In general, animals talk about killing others for food. The Jungle Book has been made into a number of film and TV versions , and a sequel to the book, The Second Jungle Book, contains more stories about Mowgli and other jungle creatures. User reviews Review this title! What's the story? Rudyard Kipling's classic book of short stories THE JUNGLE BOOK contains several pieces about Mowgli, the \"mancub,\" who was taken from his human parents and ends up being raised by a wolf family.

The book also includes stories about animal characters: \"Rikki Tikki Tavi,\" about a brave mongoose; \"The White Seal\" about a young seal that swims the Bering Strait; and \"Toomai of the Elephants,\" about a young elephant handler. All of the stories personify animals, and they show the complex relationship between creatures that hunt and fear each other in the wild. In Mowgli's stories, the most well known Jungle Book tales, the young boy grows up surrounded by his wolf family and his loyal friends Baloo the bear and Bagheera the panther. Mowgli struggles for acceptance in the wolf pack while trying to learn the ways of the jungle, avoid being tricked by mischievous monkeys, and evade Shere Khan the tiger, who's always lurking in the shadows. \ Is it any good? QUALITY The Jungle Book has fascinated readers for more than 100 years with its unforgettable characters and beautifully rendered animal society.

There's loads of action and adventure -- as Mowgli engages in a battle of wits with Shere Khan the tiger, or when Rikki Tikki Tavi protects his family from cobras -- and inspiring messages, too, about respecting the laws of nature and the ways intelligence and understanding can be more effective than brute strength. However, readers who are more familiar with Disney's rendition of The Jungle Book may need some encouragement to appreciate the beauty of the less whimsical original. Families can talk about... Families can talk about how the Mowgli in the book different from the one in Disney's animated Jungle Book. What differences are there in the story? What's difficult for Mowgli as he tries to fit in to the human village? Tweens and teens can learn more about Rudyard Kipling's world by watching the PBS series My Boy Jack , starring Daniel Radcliffe as Kipling's son.

Book details The Jungle Book by Rudyard Kipling · OverDrive: eBooks, audiobooks and videos for libraries Classic Literature Juvenile Fiction Short Stories Venture into the depths of the jungle with Mowgli, the "man cub", Baloo the bear, Bagheera the panther, Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, an Indian Mongoose, and others in Rudyard Kipling's enduring classic, The Jungle Book. Inspired by Kipling's travels through India, The Jungle Book is a collection of short stories shared through the eyes of animals in the Indian jungle who possess human characteristics. HarperPerennial Classics brings great works of literature to life in digital format, upholding the highest standards in ebook production and celebrating reading in all its forms. Look for more titles in the HarperPerennial Classics collection to build your digital library. The Jungle Book, by Rudyard Kipling : “Rikki-Tikki-Tavi” The Jungle Book, by Rudyard Kipling “Rikki-Tikki-Tavi” At the hole where he went in Red-Eye called to Wrinkle-Skin.

Hear what little Red-Eye saith: “Nag, come up and dance with death!” Eye to eye and head to head, (Keep the measure, Nag.) This shall end when one is dead; (At thy pleasure, Nag.) Turn for turn and twist for twist — (Run and hide thee, Nag.) Hah! The hooded Death has missed! (Woe betide thee, Nag!) This is the story of the great war that Rikki-tikki-tavi fought single-handed, through the bath-rooms of the big bungalow in Segowlee cantonment. Darzee, the Tailorbird, helped him, and Chuchundra, the musk-rat, who never comes out into the middle of the floor, but always creeps round by the wall, gave him advice, but Rikki-tikki did the real fighting. He was a mongoose, rather like a little cat in his fur and his tail, but quite like a weasel in his head and his habits. His eyes and the end of his restless nose were pink. He could scratch himself anywhere he pleased with any leg, front or back, that he chose to use.

He could fluff up his tail till it looked like a bottle brush, and his war cry as he scuttled through the long grass was: “Rikk-tikk-tikki-tikki-tchk!” One day, a high summer flood washed him out of the burrow where he lived with his father and mother, and carried him, kicking and clucking, down a roadside ditch. He found a little wisp of grass floating there, and clung to it till he lost his senses. When he revived, he was lying in the hot sun on the middle of a garden path, very draggled indeed, and a small boy was saying, “Here’s a dead mongoose. Let’s have a funeral.” “No,” said his mother, “let’s take him in and dry him. Perhaps he isn’t really dead.” They took him into the house, and a big man picked him up between his finger and thumb and said he was not dead but half choked. So they wrapped him in cotton wool, and warmed him over a little fire, and he opened his eyes and sneezed.

“Now,” said the big man (he was an Englishman who had just moved into the bungalow), “don’t frighten him, and we’ll see what he’ll do.” It is the hardest thing in the world to frighten a mongoose, because he is eaten up from nose to tail with curiosity. The motto of all the mongoose family is “Run and find out,” and Rikki-tikki was a true mongoose. He looked at the cotton wool, decided that it was not good to eat, ran all round the table, sat up and put his fur in order, scratched himself, and jumped on the small boy’s shoulder. “Don’t be frightened, Teddy,” said his father. “That’s his way of making friends.” “Ouch! He’s tickling under my chin,” said Teddy. Rikki-tikki looked down between the boy’s collar and neck, snuffed at his ear, and climbed down to the floor, where he sat rubbing his nose. “Rikki Looked Down Between the Boy’s Collar and Neck.” “Good gracious,” said Teddy’s mother, “and that’s a wild creature!

I suppose he’s so tame because we’ve been kind to him.” “All mongooses are like that,” said her husband. “If Teddy doesn’t pick him up by the tail, or try to put him in a cage, he’ll run in and out of the house all day long. Let’s give him something to eat.” They gave him a little piece of raw meat. Rikki-tikki liked it immensely, and when it was finished he went out into the veranda and sat in the sunshine and fluffed up his fur to make it dry to the roots. Then he felt better. “There are more things to find out about in this house,” he said to himself, “than all my family could find out in all their lives. I shall certainly stay and find out.” “He Put His Nose Into the Ink.” He spent all that day roaming over the house. He nearly drowned himself in the bath-tubs, put his nose into the ink on a writing table, and burned it on the end of the big man’s cigar, for he climbed up in the big man’s lap to see how writing was done.

At nightfall he ran into Teddy’s nursery to watch how kerosene lamps were lighted, and when Teddy went to bed Rikki-tikki climbed up too. But he was a restless companion, because he had to get up and attend to every noise all through the night, and find out what made it. Teddy’s mother and father came in, the last thing, to look at their boy, and Rikki-tikki was awake on the pillow. “I don’t like that,” said Teddy’s mother. “He may bite the child.” “He’ll do no such thing,” said the father. “Teddy’s safer with that little beast than if he had a bloodhound to watch him. If a snake came into the nursery now —” But Teddy’s mother wouldn’t think of anything so awful. “Rikki Tikki Was Awake On The Pillow.” Early in the morning Rikki-tikki came to early breakfast in the veranda riding on Teddy’s shoulder, and they gave him banana and some boiled egg.

He sat on all their laps one after the other, because every well-brought-up mongoose always hopes to be a house mongoose some day and have rooms to run about in; and Rikki-tikki’s mother (she used to live in the general’s house at Segowlee) had carefully told Rikki what to do if ever he came across white men. “He Came To Breakfast Riding on Teddy’s Shoulder.” Then Rikki-tikki went out into the garden to see what was to be seen. It was a large garden, only half cultivated, with bushes, as big as summer-houses, of Marshal Niel roses, lime and orange trees, clumps of bamboos, and thickets of high grass. Rikki-tikki licked his lips. “This is a splendid hunting-ground,” he said, and his tail grew bottle-brushy at the thought of it, and he scuttled up and down the garden, snuffing here and there till he heard very sorrowful voices in a thorn-bush. It was Darzee, the Tailorbird, and his wife.

They had made a beautiful nest by pulling two big leaves together and stitching them up the edges with fibers, and had filled the hollow with cotton and downy fluff. The nest swayed to and fro, as they sat on the rim and cried. “What is the matter?” asked Rikki-tikki. “We are very miserable,” said Darzee. “One of our babies fell out of the nest yesterday and Nag ate him.” “H’m!” said Rikki-tikki, “that is very sad — but I am a stranger here. Who is Nag?” “We are very miserable, said Darzee.” Darzee and his wife only cowered down in the nest without answering, for from the thick grass at the foot of the bush there came a low hiss — a horrid cold sound that made Rikki-tikki jump back two clear feet. Then inch by inch out of the grass rose up the head and spread hood of Nag, the big black cobra, and he was five feet long from tongue to tail.

When he had lifted one-third of himself clear of the ground, he stayed balancing to and fro exactly as a dandelion tuft balances in the wind, and he looked at Rikki-tikki with the wicked snake’s eyes that never change their expression, whatever the snake may be thinking of. “Who is Nag?” said he. “I am Nag. The great God Brahm put his mark upon all our people, when the first cobra spread his hood to keep the sun off Brahm as he slept. Look, and be afraid!” “‘I Am Nag,’ Said the Cobra: ‘Look and Be Afraid!’ But At the Bottom of His Cold Heart He Was Afraid.” He spread out his hood more than ever, and Rikki-tikki saw the spectacle-mark on the back of it that looks exactly like the eye part of a hook-and-eye fastening. He was afraid for the minute, but it is impossible for a mongoose to stay frightened for any length of time, and though Rikki-tikki had never met a live cobra before, his mother had fed him on dead ones, and he knew that all a grown mongoose’s business in life was to fight and eat snakes.

Nag knew that too and, at the bottom of his cold heart, he was afraid. “Well,” said Rikki-tikki, and his tail began to fluff up again, “marks or no marks, do you think it is right for you to eat fledglings out of a nest?” Nag was thinking to himself, and watching the least little movement in the grass behind Rikki-tikki. He knew that mongooses in the garden meant death sooner or later for him and his family, but he wanted to get Rikki-tikki off his guard. So he dropped his head a little, and put it on one side. “Let us talk,” he said. “You eat eggs. Why should not I eat birds?” “Behind you! Look behind you!” sang Darzee. Rikki-tikki knew better than to waste time in staring. He jumped up in the air as high as he could go, and just under him whizzed by the head of Nagaina, Nag’s wicked wife. She had crept up behind him as he was talking, to make an end of him. He heard her savage hiss as the stroke missed.

He came down almost across her back, and if he had been an old mongoose he would have known that then was the time to break her back with one bite; but he was afraid of the terrible lashing return stroke of the cobra. He bit, indeed, but did not bite long enough, and he jumped clear of the whisking tail, leaving Nagaina torn and angry. “He Jumped Up in the Air, And Just Under Him Whizzed By the Head of Nagaina.” “Wicked, wicked Darzee!” said Nag, lashing up as high as he could reach toward the nest in the thorn-bush. But Darzee had built it out of reach of snakes, and it only swayed to and fro. Rikki-tikki felt his eyes growing red and hot (when a mongoose’s eyes grow red, he is angry), and he sat back on his tail and hind legs like a little kangaroo, and looked all round him, and chattered with rage. But Nag and Nagaina had disappeared into the grass. When a snake misses its stroke, it never says anything or gives any sign of what it means to do next.

Rikki-tikki did not care to follow them, for he did not feel sure that he could manage two snakes at once. So he trotted off to the gravel path near the house, and sat down to think. It was a serious matter for him. If you read the old books of natural history, you will find they say that when the mongoose fights the snake and happens to get bitten, he runs off and eats some herb that cures him. That is not true. The victory is only a matter of quickness of eye and quickness of foot — snake’s blow against mongoose’s jump — and as no eye can follow the motion of a snake’s head when it strikes, this makes things much more wonderful than any magic herb. Rikki-tikki knew he was a young mongoose, and it made him all the more pleased to think that he had managed to escape a blow from behind. It gave him confidence in himself, and when Teddy came running down the path, Rikki-tikki was ready to be petted. But just as Teddy was stooping, something wriggled a little in the dust, and a tiny voice said: “Be careful.

I am Death!” It was Karait, the dusty brown snakeling that lies for choice on the dusty earth; and his bite is as dangerous as the cobra’s. But he is so small that nobody thinks of him, and so he does the more harm to people. Rikki-tikki’s eyes grew red again, and he danced up to Karait with the peculiar rocking, swaying motion that he had inherited from his family. It looks very funny, but it is so perfectly balanced a gait that you can fly off from it at any angle you please, and in dealing with snakes this is an advantage. If Rikki-tikki had only known, he was doing a much more dangerous thing than fighting Nag, for Karait is so small, and can turn so quickly, that unless Rikki bit him close to the back of the head, he would get the return stroke in his eye or his lip. But Rikki did not know. His eyes were all red, and he rocked back and forth, looking for a good place to hold. Karait struck out.

Rikki jumped sideways and tried to run in, but the wicked little dusty gray head lashed within a fraction of his shoulder, and he had to jump over the body, and the head followed his heels close. Teddy shouted to the house: “Oh, look here! Our mongoose is killing a snake.” And Rikki-tikki heard a scream from Teddy’s mother. His father ran out with a stick, but by the time he came up, Karait had lunged out once too far, and Rikki-tikki had sprung, jumped on the snake’s back, dropped his head far between his forelegs, bitten as high up the back as he could get hold, and rolled away. That bite paralyzed Karait, and Rikki-tikki was just going to eat him up from the tail, after the custom of his family at dinner, when he remembered that a full meal makes a slow mongoose, and if he wanted all his strength and quickness ready, he must keep himself thin. He went away for a dust bath under the castor-oil bushes, while Teddy’s father beat the dead Karait. “What is the use of that?” thought Rikki-tikki.

“I have settled it all;” and then Teddy’s mother picked him up from the dust and hugged him, crying that he had saved Teddy from death, and Teddy’s father said that he was a providence, and Teddy looked on with big scared eyes. Rikki-tikki was rather amused at all the fuss, which, of course, he did not understand. Teddy’s mother might just as well have petted Teddy for playing in the dust. Rikki was thoroughly enjoying himself. That night at dinner, walking to and fro among the wine-glasses on the table, he might have stuffed himself three times over with nice things. But he remembered Nag and Nagaina, and though it was very pleasant to be patted and petted by Teddy’s mother, and to sit on Teddy’s shoulder, his eyes would get red from time to time, and he would go off into his long war cry of “Rikk-tikk-tikki-tikki-tchk!” Teddy carried him off to bed, and insisted on Rikki-tikki sleeping under his chin.

Rikki-tikki was too well bred to bite or scratch, but as soon as Teddy was asleep he went off for his nightly walk round the house, and in the dark he ran up against Chuchundra, the musk-rat, creeping around by the wall. Chuchundra is a broken-hearted little beast. He whimpers and cheeps all the night, trying to make up his mind to run into the middle of the room. But he never gets there. “Don’t kill me,” said Chuchundra, almost weeping. “Rikki-tikki, don’t kill me!” “Do you think a snake-killer kills muskrats?” said Rikki-tikki scornfully. “Those who kill snakes get killed by snakes,” said Chuchundra, more sorrowfully than ever. “And how am I to be sure that Nag won’t mistake me for you some dark night?” “There’s not the least danger,” said Rikki-tikki. “But Nag is in the garden, and I know you don’t go there.” “My cousin Chua, the rat, told me —” said Chuchundra, and then he stopped. “Told you what?” “H’sh!

Nag is everywhere, Rikki-tikki. You should have talked to Chua in the garden.” “I didn’t — so you must tell me. Quick, Chuchundra, or I’ll bite you!” Chuchundra sat down and cried till the tears rolled off his whiskers. “I am a very poor man,” he sobbed. “I never had spirit enough to run out into the middle of the room. H’sh! I mustn’t tell you anything. Can’t you hear, Rikki-tikki?” Rikki-tikki listened. The house was as still as still, but he thought he could just catch the faintest scratch-scratch in the world — a noise as faint as that of a wasp walking on a window-pane — the dry scratch of a snake’s scales on brick-work. “That’s Nag or Nagaina,” he said to himself, “and he is crawling into the bath-room sluice. You’re right, Chuchundra; I should have talked to Chua.” He stole off to Teddy’s bath-room, but there was nothing there, and then to Teddy’s mother’s bathroom.

At the bottom of the smooth plaster wall there was a brick pulled out to make a sluice for the bath water, and as Rikki-tikki stole in by the masonry curb where the bath is put, he heard Nag and Nagaina whispering together outside in the moonlight. “When the house is emptied of people,” said Nagaina to her husband, “he will have to go away, and then the garden will be our own again. Go in quietly, and remember that the big man who killed Karait is the first one to bite. Then come out and tell me, and we will hunt for Rikki-tikki together.” “But are you sure that there is anything to be gained by killing the people?” said Nag. “Everything. When there were no people in the bungalow, did we have any mongoose in the garden? So long as the bungalow is empty, we are king and queen of the garden; and remember that as soon as our eggs in the melon bed hatch (as they may tomorrow), our children will need room and quiet.” “I had not thought of that,” said Nag. “I will go, but there is no need that we should hunt for Rikki-tikki afterward.

I will kill the big man and his wife, and the child if I can, and come away quietly. Then the bungalow will be empty, and Rikki-tikki will go.” Rikki-tikki tingled all over with rage and hatred at this, and then Nag’s head came through the sluice, and his five feet of cold body followed it. Angry as he was, Rikki-tikki was very frightened as he saw the size of the big cobra. Nag coiled himself up, raised his head, and looked into the bathroom in the dark, and Rikki could see his eyes glitter. “Now, if I kill him here, Nagaina will know; and if I fight him on the open floor, the odds are in his favor. What am I to do?” said Rikki-tikki-tavi. Nag waved to and fro, and then Rikki-tikki heard him drinking from the biggest water-jar that was used to fill the bath. “That is good,” said the snake. “Now, when Karait was killed, the big man had a stick. He may have that stick still, but when he comes in to bathe in the morning he will not have a stick.

I shall wait here till he comes. Nagaina — do you hear me? — I shall wait here in the cool till daytime.” There was no answer from outside, so Rikki-tikki knew Nagaina had gone away. Nag coiled himself down, coil by coil, round the bulge at the bottom of the water jar, and Rikki-tikki stayed still as death. After an hour he began to move, muscle by muscle, toward the jar. Nag was asleep, and Rikki-tikki looked at his big back, wondering which would be the best place for a good hold. “If I don’t break his back at the first jump,” said Rikki, “he can still fight. And if he fights — O Rikki!” He looked at the thickness of the neck below the hood, but that was too much for him; and a bite near the tail would only make Nag savage. “It must be the head”’ he said at last; “the head above the hood. And, when I am once there, I must not let go.” Then he jumped.

The head was lying a little clear of the water jar, under the curve of it; and, as his teeth met, Rikki braced his back against the bulge of the red earthenware to hold down the head. This gave him just one second’s purchase, and he made the most of it. Then he was battered to and fro as a rat is shaken by a dog — to and fro on the floor, up and down, and around in great circles, but his eyes were red and he held on as the body cart-whipped over the floor, upsetting the tin dipper and the soap dish and the flesh brush, and banged against the tin side of the bath. As he held he closed his jaws tighter and tighter, for he made sure he would be banged to death, and, for the honor of his family, he preferred to be found with his teeth locked. He was dizzy, aching, and felt shaken to pieces when something went off like a thunderclap just behind him. A hot wind knocked him senseless and red fire singed his fur. The big man had been wakened by the noise, and had fired both barrels of a shotgun into Nag just behind the hood.

“Then Rikki-Tikki Was Battered To and Fro as a Rat is Shaken by a Dog.” Rikki-tikki held on with his eyes shut, for now he was quite sure he was dead. But the head did not move, and the big man picked him up and said, “It’s the mongoose again, Alice. The little chap has saved our lives now.” Then Teddy’s mother came in with a very white face, and saw what was left of Nag, and Rikki-tikki dragged himself to Teddy’s bedroom and spent half the rest of the night shaking himself tenderly to find out whether he really was broken into forty pieces, as he fancied. When morning came he was very stiff, but well pleased with his doings. “Now I have Nagaina to settle with, and she will be worse than five Nags, and there’s no knowing when the eggs she spoke of will hatch. Goodness! I must go and see Darzee,” he said. Without waiting for breakfast, Rikki-tikki ran to the thornbush where Darzee was singing a song of triumph at the top of his voice.

The news of Nag’s death was all over the garden, for the sweeper had thrown the body on the rubbish-heap. “Oh, you stupid tuft of feathers!” said Rikki-tikki angrily. “Is this the time to sing?” “Nag is dead — is dead — is dead!” sang Darzee. “The valiant Rikki-tikki caught him by the head and held fast. The big man brought the bang-stick, and Nag fell in two pieces! He will never eat my babies again.” “All that’s true enough. But where’s Nagaina?” said Rikki-tikki, looking carefully round him. “Nagaina came to the bathroom sluice and called for Nag,” Darzee went on, “and Nag came out on the end of a stick — the sweeper picked him up on the end of a stick and threw him upon the rubbish heap. Let us sing about the great, the red-eyed Rikki-tikki!” And Darzee filled his throat and sang. “If I could get up to your nest, I’d roll your babies out!” said Rikki-tikki. “You don’t know when to do the right thing at the right time.

You’re safe enough in your nest there, but it’s war for me down here. Stop singing a minute, Darzee.” “For the great, the beautiful Rikki-tikki’s sake I will stop,” said Darzee. “What is it, O Killer of the terrible Nag?” “Where is Nagaina, for the third time?” “On the rubbish heap by the stables, mourning for Nag. Great is Rikki-tikki with the white teeth.” “Bother my white teeth! Have you ever heard where she keeps her eggs?” “In the melon bed, on the end nearest the wall, where the sun strikes nearly all day. She hid them there weeks ago.” “And you never thought it worth while to tell me? The end nearest the wall, you said?” “Rikki-tikki, you are not going to eat her eggs?” “Not eat exactly; no. Darzee, if you have a grain of sense you will fly off to the stables and pretend that your wing is broken, and let Nagaina chase you away to this bush.

I must get to the melon-bed, and if I went there now she’d see me.” “Darzee’s Wife Pretends to Have a Broken Wing.” Darzee was a feather-brained little fellow who could never hold more than one idea at a time in his head. And just because he knew that Nagaina’s children were born in eggs like his own, he didn’t think at first that it was fair to kill them. But his wife was a sensible bird, and she knew that cobra’s eggs meant young cobras later on. So she flew off from the nest, and left Darzee to keep the babies warm, and continue his song about the death of Nag. Darzee was very like a man in some ways. She fluttered in front of Nagaina by the rubbish heap and cried out, “Oh, my wing is broken! The boy in the house threw a stone at me and broke it.” Then she fluttered more desperately than ever. Nagaina lifted up her head and hissed, “You warned Rikki-tikki when I would have killed him. Indeed and truly, you’ve chosen a bad place to be lame in.” And she moved toward Darzee’s wife, slipping along over the dust.

“The boy broke it with a stone!” shrieked Darzee’s wife. “Well! It may be some consolation to you when you’re dead to know that I shall settle accounts with the boy. My husband lies on the rubbish heap this morning, but before night the boy in the house will lie very still. What is the use of running away? I am sure to catch you. Little fool, look at me!” Darzee’s wife knew better than to do that, for a bird who looks at a snake’s eyes gets so frightened that she cannot move. Darzee’s wife fluttered on, piping sorrowfully, and never leaving the ground, and Nagaina quickened her pace. Rikki-tikki heard them going up the path from the stables, and he raced for the end of the melon patch near the wall. There, in the warm litter above the melons, very cunningly hidden, he found twenty-five eggs, about the size of a bantam’s eggs, but with whitish skin instead of shell.

“I was not a day too soon,” he said, for he could see the baby cobras curled up inside the skin, and he knew that the minute they were hatched they could each kill a man or a mongoose. He bit off the tops of the eggs as fast as he could, taking care to crush the young cobras, and turned over the litter from time to time to see whether he had missed any. At last there were only three eggs left, and Rikki-tikki began to chuckle to himself, when he heard Darzee’s wife screaming: “Rikki-tikki, I led Nagaina toward the house, and she has gone into the veranda, and — oh, come quickly — she means killing!” Rikki-tikki smashed two eggs, and tumbled backward down the melon-bed with the third egg in his mouth, and scuttled to the veranda as hard as he could put foot to the ground. Teddy and his mother and father were there at early breakfast, but Rikki-tikki saw that they were not eating anything. They sat stone-still, and their faces were white.

Nagaina was coiled up on the matting by Teddy’s chair, within easy striking distance of Teddy’s bare leg, and she was swaying to and fro, singing a song of triumph. “Son of the big man that killed Nag,” she hissed, “stay still. I am not ready yet. Wait a little. Keep very still, all you three! If you move I strike, and if you do not move I strike. Oh, foolish people, who killed my Nag!” Teddy’s eyes were fixed on his father, and all his father could do was to whisper, “Sit still, Teddy. You mustn’t move. Teddy, keep still.” Then Rikki-tikki came up and cried, “Turn round, Nagaina. Turn and fight!” “All in good time,” said she, without moving her eyes. “I will settle my account with you presently. Look at your friends, Rikki-tikki. They are still and white. They are afraid. They dare not move, and if you come a step nearer I strike.” “Look at your eggs,” said Rikki-tikki, “in the melon bed near the wall.

Go and look, Nagaina!” The big snake turned half around, and saw the egg on the veranda. “Ah-h! Give it to me,” she said. Rikki-tikki put his paws one on each side of the egg, and his eyes were blood-red. “What price for a snake’s egg? For a young cobra? For a young king cobra? For the last — the very last of the brood? The ants are eating all the others down by the melon bed.” Nagaina spun clear round, forgetting everything for the sake of the one egg. Rikki-tikki saw Teddy’s father shoot out a big hand, catch Teddy by the shoulder, and drag him across the little table with the tea-cups, safe and out of reach of Nagaina. “Tricked! Tricked! Tricked! Rikk-tck-tck!” chuckled Rikki-tikki. “The boy is safe, and it was I— I— I that caught Nag by the hood last night in the bathroom.” Then he began to jump up and down, all four feet together, his head close to the floor. “He threw me to and fro, but he could not shake me off.

He was dead before the big man blew him in two. I did it! Rikki-tikki-tck-tck! Come then, Nagaina. Come and fight with me. You shall not be a widow long.” Nagaina saw that she had lost her chance of killing Teddy, and the egg lay between Rikki-tikki’s paws. “Give me the egg, Rikki-tikki. Give me the last of my eggs, and I will go away and never come back,” she said, lowering her hood. “Yes, you will go away, and you will never come back. For you will go to the rubbish heap with Nag. Fight, widow! The big man has gone for his gun! Fight!” Rikki-tikki was bounding all round Nagaina, keeping just out of reach of her stroke, his little eyes like hot coals. Nagaina gathered herself together and flung out at him. Rikki-tikki jumped up and backward. Again and again and again she struck, and each time her head came with a whack on the matting of the veranda and she gathered herself together like a watch spring.

Then Rikki-tikki danced in a circle to get behind her, and Nagaina spun round to keep her head to his head, so that the rustle of her tail on the matting sounded like dry leaves blown along by the wind. He had forgotten the egg. It still lay on the veranda, and Nagaina came nearer and nearer to it, till at last, while Rikki-tikki was drawing breath, she caught it in her mouth, turned to the veranda steps, and flew like an arrow down the path, with Rikki-tikki behind her. When the cobra runs for her life, she goes like a whip-lash flicked across a horse’s neck. “Nagaina Flew Down the Path, With Rikki-Tikki Behind Her.” Rikki-tikki knew that he must catch her, or all the trouble would begin again. She headed straight for the long grass by the thorn-bush, and as he was running Rikki-tikki heard Darzee still singing his foolish little song of triumph. But Darzee’s wife was wiser. She flew off her nest as Nagaina came along, and flapped her wings about Nagaina’s head.

If Darzee had helped they might have turned her, but Nagaina only lowered her hood and went on. Still, the instant’s delay brought Rikki-tikki up to her, and as she plunged into the rat-hole where she and Nag used to live, his little white teeth were clenched on her tail, and he went down with her — and very few mongooses, however wise and old they may be, care to follow a cobra into its hole. It was dark in the hole; and Rikki-tikki never knew when it might open out and give Nagaina room to turn and strike at him. He held on savagely, and stuck out his feet to act as brakes on the dark slope of the hot, moist earth. Then the grass by the mouth of the hole stopped waving, and Darzee said, “It is all over with Rikki-tikki! We must sing his death song. Valiant Rikki-tikki is dead!

For Nagaina will surely kill him underground.” “It Is All Over.” So he sang a very mournful song that he made up on the spur of the minute, and just as he got to the most touching part, the grass quivered again, and Rikki-tikki, covered with dirt, dragged himself out of the hole leg by leg, licking his whiskers. Darzee stopped with a little shout. Rikki-tikki shook some of the dust out of his fur and sneezed. “It is all over,” he said. “The widow will never come out again.” And the red ants that live between the grass stems heard him, and began to troop down one after another to see if he had spoken the truth. Rikki-tikki curled himself up in the grass and slept where he was — slept and slept till it was late in the afternoon, for he had done a hard day’s work. “Now,” he said, when he awoke, “I will go back to the house.

Tell the Coppersmith, Darzee, and he will tell the garden that Nagaina is dead.” The Coppersmith is a bird who makes a noise exactly like the beating of a little hammer on a copper pot; and the reason he is always making it is because he is the town crier to every Indian garden, and tells all the news to everybody who cares to listen. As Rikki-tikki went up the path, he heard his “attention” notes like a tiny dinner gong, and then the steady “Ding-dong-tock! Nag is dead — dong! Nagaina is dead! Ding-dong-tock!” That set all the birds in the garden singing, and the frogs croaking, for Nag and Nagaina used to eat frogs as well as little birds. When Rikki got to the house, Teddy and Teddy’s mother (she looked very white still, for she had been fainting) and Teddy’s father came out and almost cried over him; and that night he ate all that was given him till he could eat no more, and went to bed on Teddy’s shoulder, where Teddy’s mother saw him when she came to look late at night.

“He saved our lives and Teddy’s life,” she said to her husband. “Just think, he saved all our lives.” Rikki-tikki woke up with a jump, for the mongooses are light sleepers. “Oh, it’s you,” said he. “What are you bothering for? All the cobras are dead. And if they weren’t, I’m here.” Rikki-tikki had a right to be proud of himself. But he did not grow too proud, and he kept that garden as a mongoose should keep it, with tooth and jump and spring and bite, till never a cobra dared show its head inside the walls.

Question: What is the name of the mongoose in Rudyard Kipling' s 'The Jungle Book'?
Answer: RIKKI TIKKI TAVI